Itsy Bitsy Spider (Emma Frost #1) (3 page)

He was
wondering what
kind of mood the old hag was in today
as he waited for the garage door to open, before he drove into the driveway.
The gravel was loud underneath the wheels of the Mercedes. Why she insisted on
still driving this old car when she could easily afford a newer model, Torben
didn't understand. But it was her car and her money.

Torben had worked for Mrs. Heinrichsen for as
long as he could remember. Drove her around to wherever she needed to be. Did
some handiwork around the house whenever it was needed or at least made sure
the right people were called to fix it. He was her
go-to guy
as they said in the movies. Torben didn't mind
that. In fact he enjoyed being needed by someone. Ever since his wife had
passed away six years ago the old house seemed so empty. The kids had moved
away many years ago, off to the mainland, to the big city to lives of their own
and soon forgot all about their old father rotting away on the island.

Back in the day when Mr. Heinrichsen was still
alive Torben had not liked his job very much. He simply didn't like Mr.
Heinrichsen and the way he treated people. Well the old lady wasn't much better
herself, and age didn't seem to soften her up, but Torben had known her now for
many years now and knew she wasn't so bad once you really got to know her. She
would boss him around, yes, but now that Yvonne wasn't alive anymore he quite
frankly liked to have someone tell him what to do from time to time. It had
that familiar feeling to it. Like he had a purpose.

Torben sighed and fixed his cap and tie to make
sure it was on straight. Mrs. Heinrichsen preferred him to look right. She
didn't like sloppiness and over the years Torben had learned to appreciate it.
You didn't find much of that these days anymore. Discipline, self-control. It
was all in the character and Mrs. Heinrichsen had helped Torben build his
character. She had made him stronger. Not with loving and caring attitude, no
by being harsh and hard on him when he needed it the most. Like when Yvonne
died. It had nearly broken him. He was about to slide into a deep depression,
when Mrs. Heinrichsen told him to stop feeling sorry for himself.

"Just get over it," she had said.

She had given him a day off to go to the funeral,
actually a whole week, but the next day he had shown up at her doorstep, the
cap in his hand asking her if she needed him today. He could tell by the look
in her eyes that she hadn't any plans, but she had come up with some.

"As a matter of fact you're late," she
had said with her well-known snort that Torben had hated so much but suddenly
found very comforting, very familiar. "I have to see my hairdresser in ten
minutes and with all this traffic it's going to take at least fifteen."

"Then let's get going," he said with a
huge smile, then brought the car out. Of course the old lady didn't have an
appointment, but the hairdressers found time for her anyway. She had a way like
that. She could make people jump for her.

That was when Torben realized the old woman did
have a heart. They never talked about the death of Yvonne or Torben's sadness
again, but they didn't have to. Somehow they had found each other, a strange
sort of friendship in the middle of it all and that was enough for him. He
didn't need her pity or her compassion. He needed everything to go back to
normal, and so it had. It made coming home to the empty house a lot easier when
he knew there was someone needing him in the morning.

Torben whistled and waited in the driveway for
the big old wooden door to open, but minutes passed and nothing happened.
Torben wrinkled his nose. In all the thirty years Torben had worked for the
lady she had never ever been late once. A feeling of unease was starting to
spread in his body as the minutes passed by and shortly after, he couldn't
stand it anymore. Mrs. Heinrichsen was supposed to be at her lawyer's office on
the mainland at ten and if she didn't come out now, they weren't going to catch
the ferry.

Torben knew Mrs. Heinrichsen would be very angry
with him for doing this, but something compelled him to walk up the stairs and
walk into the big old house.

"Hello?" he said hoping Mrs.
Heinrichsen had merely overslept. "Mrs. Heinrichsen? The car is ready for
you? The ferry leaves in half an hour."

As he received no answer Torben's heart started
racing in his chest. This was not good; he thought and ran up the stairs and
down the hallway. He knocked on her bedroom door with the cap in his hand.

"Mrs. Heinrichsen. We're going to be
late."

He knocked twice, three times, and when there
was no answer after the fifth time, he took in a deep breath and did what he
had never done before. He walked into Mrs. Heinrichsen's bedroom.

"I'm sorry to do this but ..."

Torben froze by the sight of the old lady lying
on her bed with her empty eyes staring into the ceiling. Then he cried. Not
because he was reminded of the time he had come home and found his wife in the
same position, dead by a heart attack on the same bed she had given birth to
their two sons, not because he was sad that he was now going to be really alone
since no one would need his services any longer. No Torben cried because of
what had happened to her body. He cried and sobbed because never in his sixty
years of living had he been in the presence of such cruelty.

I was woken by
the
sound of sirens in the street. My sleep had been uneasy and it had been very
late before I even got to put my head on the pillow. I looked at my phone.

"For God's sake. It's eight am. I might as
well be back in the city with all that noise."

I looked out the window and saw the island's
police car (yes I would later learn that there was actually only one!) drive
past my new house. It stopped further down the street in front of what looked
like a big gate. I rubbed my eyes and decided to take a shower. I had a busy
day ahead of me unpacking our boxes and getting to know our new home.

Victor was jumping down the stairs after ten
minutes. I had barely managed to find the pots and pans to begin making the
bacon and egg I had brought with us in a cooler.

"This house is awesome!" he exclaimed.

I couldn't help smiling. It had been a long time
since I had seen him this happy. It warmed my heart and filled me with hope for
our future.

"Are you hungry, buddy? I'm making eggs and
toast and ..."

"Mom have you even seen the yard yet?"
he asked with sparkling eyes.

"No I have not had the pleasure ..."

Victor jumped up and pulled my arm. "You
won't believe it. It has Douglas firs; it has ash, and birches and even
cypresses."

"Oh, really huh?" I said sleepily
while my son dragged me through the beautiful old living room and through the
doors leading to the backyard. To me it looked mostly like a wild forest, but I
knew to Victor it was like heaven. He had been into trees for several years now
and always complained that living in the city was dull and dead,
we might as well live on the space station circling
the earth
, he would say. He loved trees and always dreamed of having
his own yard. I smiled and put my arm around him forgetting how he hated to be
touched. For a second he forgot as well. While he watched the big dark trees
that were completely blocking the view of the ocean beneath the yard, I got to
hold on to him for just a few seconds, something I hadn't been able to in years
without him breaking into a hysterical scream.

Then he remembered and pushed away my arm. He
walked closer and looked up at the mighty trees in front of him.

I pushed back a tear watching him. He looked
like he was dancing between them, turning on his feet, laughing. "Don't
get lost in there," I said half laughing, half choking. "I'll get
that breakfast ready for you in a jiff," I added and walked back towards
the kitchen.

I chuckled with happiness as I put bread in the
toaster and found out how to work the stove.

"What's all the fuss about?" Maya
looked at me like I was a babbling idiot and walked into the kitchen.

"Victor is excited about the trees in the
yard. Have you seen all the big trees? You know how much he has always wanted
to live in a house with a yard full of trees."

"That's so ..." Maya stopped herself
from saying something. I guessed she could tell by the look in my eyes that
this was not the moment for one of her usual sarcastic remarks.

I smiled and served the breakfast. I called for
Victor and he came storming inside with the biggest smile to his face.

"Don't stuff your mouth," I said but
didn't mean it. I was glad to see him eat like a healthy happy boy and not pick
in his food with a fork stating he wasn't hungry as usual. This was certainly
the change he needed, if not for anyone else, then it was certainly good for
him, and that was enough for me.

"So what are there like schools here?"
Maya asked while avoiding the bacon and sticking to the egg and toast.

I chuckled. "Of course. I already contacted
them and they know you're coming. Starting next week after we have settled in.
You have four days."

Maya scoffed. Victor didn't seem to notice
anything. He swallowed the rest of his food and left the table.

"Don't forget your plate." But it was
too late. I ate the rest of his bacon and then took some more from the pan.

"You know that stuff is really bad for you,
don't you?" Maya said.

"I do. But I also know that I like food and
I like to eat and I am not a teenager anymore so I don't have to worry about my
appearance constantly." I took another piece and crunched it between my
teeth just to be defiant.

"I thought you wanted to lose weight. It's
all you talked about when we were back at the apartment. How you thought moving
to a new place might help you get back into shape and so on. "

I made a grimace. "Well sue me for being
happy. I'll start running again. I used to love running."

"Yeah right, that'll happen."

"Really? Is that what we're doing now?
Making fun of me because I'm a little on the chubby side, is it? Seriously
Maya. Can't you just lay off the witty remarks for once and try to enjoy this
new adventure?"

Maya snorted then she got up from her chair.
"Well for you maybe. And for that tree hugger out there, the little
weirdo, but what about me?"

"What about you Maya?" I asked
annoyed. "Not everything is about you, you know?"

"Nothing is ever about me!" she
yelled.

I was startled by the tone in her voice. It
sounded so much like when she was younger, back when she still needed her
mother to fix everything. It dawned on me that maybe she still did need me
after all, that maybe she wasn't so grown up as she had pretended to be.

"What are you saying, Maya?"

"I'm saying that you just made this
decision to move all of us here without even asking me. It's all about what you
want, what you need or what Victor needs. It's never about what I want. I had
friends. I had good friends. I might never see them again. How do you think
that feels?"

"Maya. Sweetie. Of course you'll see them
again. You'll go on holidays and maybe some weekends. We'll figure it
out."

"And what about Dad?"

I sighed. "What about him?"

"Will we ever get to see him again or have
you just decided that he's out of our lives as well?"

"That is not my decision to make, Maya and
you know it. Your father was the one who moved out. He was the one who said his
girlfriends couldn't handle you. Not me. I wanted you to see him, I wanted you
to go there every other weekend like most kids in a divorce, but he made the
choice. He made the decision, Maya. Not me."

"Because of Victor," she cried.
"Because they couldn't handle Victor and all his seizures and panic
attacks. That's why. Not because of me."

I exhaled deeply. "Maya sweetie ..." I
paused. Her eyes told me she couldn't handle the truth yet. The fact was that
her father had said he couldn't handle either of them, that his girlfriend
couldn't stand them and it was too much for her now that she was pregnant and
all. That was the truth. But at this moment I realized it would break Maya's
heart if I told her that, so instead I kept quiet. This was not the time for
that.

"Maya ... I ..."

"See I told you. I'm just not important
enough. You made that decision because of Victor, right? Just like you made the
decision to move here based on what was best for Victor. Not me. Never
me."

Maya ran out the door and slammed it behind her.
I looked down on my plate and finished the rest of the bacon feeling all kinds
of guilt.

"I'll start running tomorrow," I
mumbled and drank the rest of my juice.